


burning blue

by makehomesofhumans



Category: Warcraft (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Developing Relationship, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, Light Angst, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-18
Updated: 2016-07-18
Packaged: 2018-07-24 17:01:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7516138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makehomesofhumans/pseuds/makehomesofhumans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Khadgar had Words he feared, and Lothar had Words he didn't want. They came around eventually.</p>
            </blockquote>





	burning blue

**Author's Note:**

> First thing's first, credit to Dragomir for a few aspects of this fic, which are: Khadgar's collarbone mark (because I thought it was hot), and the Kirin Tor burning off soulmate marks, and the general idea that sparked this line of thought.
> 
> Second: This is a 'first words' soulmate au based on touch, not just first words. The touch sparks the words, as in the next words said after their first touch become their marks. (Thank you to StoryR for helping me form my ideas into words regarding that irregularity.)
> 
> Third: I apologize for all the movie skimming I wrote in the beginning, I felt the need to shove little soulmate aspects into all the small cracks that I originally enjoyed watching.
> 
> Fourth: Great thanks to Genuinelies for being the reason I wrote this and being my very kind beta and cheerleader.
> 
> Fifth: Enjoy!

When Khadgar first got his Words, he wanted to burn them off, because he was scared that if he didn't, someone else would do it for him.

They appeared late at night, on a night like many others, wherein Khadgar couldn’t will himself to fall asleep. He felt the words etch themselves into his skin as if they were being written out by his soulmate, and fear gripped his heart as his lungs filled with water.

While his Words were being engraved he felt the ghost of a hand on his mouth, the ghost of a body next to his torso. Those sensations scared him even more than the actual Words did, and that panic amplified when he read them.

His Words were beautiful; they scrawled cursive across the bottom of his collarbone in a form that was somehow small, because they didn’t reach his shoulder, but also strong, for a reason he couldn’t know. What his Words spelled wasn’t as beautiful as the mark looked in the mirror, though.

_“What are you doing in my city, spell-chucker?”_

The mark made him feel unwanted, and turned his gut a bit; it was a nausea similar to the one he often felt while living with the Kirin Tor.

He touched his fingers to the Words, despite his queasiness. Maybe he would never be able to escape his demons. Maybe he was stuck being unwanted, even by his soulmate, but despite his dreary thoughts Khadgar wanted to find the person writing on his skin.

He stared at his Words in the mirror for a long time, admiring the beauty of them and wishing he could keep them. He wanted them; he wanted someone. Whether that someone hated him in the end or not, his soulmate was still worth finding just to _see_ if he could have something like that.

Anything, even a tiny spark of hope, was worth more than staying here.

Then the tears started streaming when he remembered where he was, whom he was around. The Kirin Tor made it very clear that no mage was to have a soulmate, despite the fact that almost all of them received Words and begged to keep them.

He hated the Kirin Tor; he hated them for making him feel like he didn’t deserve the love of his life. He hated them because they made Khadgar’s Words strike fear into his core, despite how much hope they were supposed to give him. They twisted his fate into something vile and unattainable, and he could never forgive them for that.

Lying in bed he remembered the other mages who had their words taken from them, burned maliciously by the Kirin Tor nurses. The reasoning they gave for their theft was that affections became distractions; they became limitations. He knew they could be right, but what did anyone have to fight for if not their soulmate? Khadgar already wanted to leave the Kirin Tor for the their controlling natures, and everything else about them wrapped into a ball of hate and flame settled at the pit of his stomach, so his Words simply gave him a reason to finally push himself out the door.

He left the morning after he got the Words; it was a heavy decision to leave, the knowledge of disappointing everyone that believed in him and knowing nothing would be the same weighing him down as he walked, but he knew what he wanted. His fingertips were never far from his collar, and he was never turning back.

 

///

 

Lothar never had Words put on his skin, and he was content with that.

He found a young lady who had the same problem as him and they made it work. It didn’t bother him after a while. They were happy, so happy that they may as well have been each other’s soulmates anyway, despite the Words. Lothar didn’t care about his Words, or lack thereof, and he didn’t want to think about them anyway.

He had something better.

But then he lost her, and he gained a son. One door closed, another opened, and it was like his throat was closing every time he looked at him. His son didn’t bring him happiness the way his wife did, and he didn't know how to deal with that.

He blamed his son in silence; he knew it was an idiotic thing to think, as if this baby in his arms killed his wife and tried to replace her, but he couldn’t let it go, he couldn’t stop grieving.

He was never open about his blame, and he never hurt Callan in any way because of it; but he could see how his anger was affecting their relationship, and he knew Callan recognized that more and more as he grew up.

He didn’t praise his son as he should have, and he didn’t pay enough attention to him at all, not even close to enough to scrape by. Lothar became a ghost after his wife’s death, and it affected his son the most.

He didn’t think about soulmates or anything like that because he didn’t think about anyone other than his long dead wife.

His grief went on for a while, until he started becoming numb to it. He made himself become a better father, despite the fact that it wouldn’t change how his son felt towards him now that the damage had been done. He made his son the focus of his life instead of casting him to the side in favor of battle and the drunken haze that never really quieted his thoughts.

He started to realize that time marched on, and losing people wasn’t anything new.

He didn’t want life to end, and even if he could force himself to drink until he was dead some nights, it didn’t make the sun stop shining. It didn’t make his son stop breathing. It didn’t make him useless. He had a duty to many people, and he never stopped being a leader. His responsibilities wouldn't vanish just because he willed them to, they'd just get harder to handle. His loss was fleeting, and he was taking that in stride. 

Until of course, he felt something carving itself into his skin.

Anduin Lothar got his Words at night, at a time when he wasn’t quite ready for them; on a night where he was already two-thirds of his way through his fourth mug of ale and ready to break it on the table at the first stroke of heat on his wrist.

The Words brought everything flooding back in heavy waves; he practically relived his wife’s death just sitting in his chair and he was almost ready to vomit before he remembered why the memory seized him. His Words left him seething and heartbroken, he didn’t understand why he’d even gotten them after all this time; _what was the point?_

He didn’t need them, he had never needed them before and he sure as hell wasn’t going to need them now. He hated them; he hated the idea that someone could replace his dead wife.

He hated thinking of the possibility that his Words were certainty; that they were right in a way that they shouldn’t be, right for him to have and right to change him. He hated that fate decided it could morph him into someone he wasn't for someone that probably deserved much better.

He pushed through his disgust and looked at the mark scratching itself into his wrist. His Words were powerful, not in meaning but in looks. They wrote strong and steady, confident and lean. He admired them for half a second before he pulled his sleeve down and finished his drink.

_“Shalaros”_

In his drunken haze he gave up on trying to understand what the Words meant. In the morning, he didn’t even look at them.

 

///

 

Months passed and Lothar wouldn’t even consider his wrist or acknowledge anything about his Words. He pretended as if he didn’t have them, because they meant nothing until he heard them. And even then they might still mean nothing.

They glowed sometimes, bright blue but somehow dim, and it pissed him off. He ignored it, because he didn’t need them, and the glow didn’t make sense. He’d never seen anyone’s marks glow any color, and here he was with this… _thing_ on his skin that he had never needed, making itself loud and clear for him to dread.

He didn’t want to be reminded of his Words just because they felt like shining some unholy blue in the dead of night. He didn’t deserve the memories they gave; they had no right to affect him like that.

He _wanted_ to say that he never desired his Words either; he never desired a soulmate because he had his wife and they were the same thing in his mind. But now that time had passed, and he didn’t know whether he wanted a soulmate or not, he only knew that he wouldn’t let himself become hopeful.

 

Lothar was in the Ironforge mines with a dwarf when he was summoned back to Stormwind.

He was fiddling with a BoomStick, whatever the Light that was, when a messenger dwarf ran up to them, offering an urgent scroll.

“You might want to head home, big man. Someone’s attacking your garrisons.”

He flew back immediately, because his city needed him. He was dazed when he arrived and saw bodies upon bodies scattered across the floor. He would have felt sick if he was like that, instead he just felt annoyed.

He huffed, “An entire garrison, and no one saw anything.”

The men he was walking with decided to correct him, “We did find someone-”

“-He was searching the bodies, here, in the barracks.”

Lothar lifted a brow at that, “In the barracks?”

It was extremely odd for someone to come looking for bodies, but he was willing to hold judgment for a moment.

He walked through a door to the room where the suspicious necrophiliac was being held, and was greeted with, “Finally, are you in command?” As if it was Lothar’s fault that this… kid, it seemed, as he sized him up, was being held there. As if the kid wasn’t obviously overstepping many, many boundaries.

It annoyed him further, and he sort of wanted to laugh.

He watched as the suspect held his hand out in question, but Lothar took it as an opportunity. He grabbed the man’s arm to turn him towards the desk, securing him to the surface. As he moved, the kid’s fingertips grazed his wrist and he didn’t want to think about it.

He never thought about it.

 

Khadgar was on his back suddenly, being held to a table by a compass, of all things, and a hand against his collar. He felt the commander, he guessed, pull his sleeve up to show the Kirin Tor mark on his forearm; he panicked.

He yelled out the first spell that came to mind before the man above him had his hand covering his mouth. Khadgar laughed slightly victoriously once his spell swirled around his hand, but then the commander spoke.

 

Lothar wasn’t paying attention; his mind was running a mile a minute after he saw the mark on the kid’s forearm.

Before he got his head back into gear the mage shouted a spell that he wasn’t listening to just before Lothar could cover his mouth. He wasn’t paying attention, the room was drowning in blue and he didn’t see his right wrist glowing, didn’t even think to look.

He was stuck on the idea of _a mage_ , here, in Stormwind. He couldn't hear a thing.

 _The mark of the Kirin Tor…_ “What are you doing in my city, spell-chucker?”

 

Khadgar wanted to play the intimidation game, he did, but the minute the Words on his collarbone left the commanders lips his spell fell away. The hand covering his mouth felt familiar, just as well as the commander’s body did next to him.

He was dazed. Here was his soulmate, standing right above him, and he didn’t seem to have an inkling of who he was to Khadgar.

The hand on his mouth removed itself after his spell tapered off into nothingness. Khadgar didn’t know what to say. He didn’t understand why his Words being spoken didn’t affect the other man at all; did he not have Khadgar’s words on his skin?

If he was honest with himself, he was still scared that his soulmate, this commander hovering over him, didn’t want him in the first place. So he said nothing of it, because he had no idea where to start.

His mind went back to what he found in the barracks, the reason he was here, and let that replace what he really wanted to talk about.

“Let me complete my examination of the body across the hall.”

He sounded more confident than he really felt, or probably should have been in his compromising position, and the man above him took advantage of it.

The commander leaned on his chest like a resting place and quipped “Now why would I do that?”

Khadgar ignored the slight arrogance and mischief in that voice, “Within that body is the secret to your attacks.”

That got through to him.

 

///

 

Khadgar was thrown into many new experiences after meeting Anduin Lothar, his new friend. Or, he would consider the man his friend; he wasn’t quite sure how the commander felt about him. And considering Lothar as his soulmate felt like a stretch at that point, especially with so many doubts running through his head.

They seemed to grow close fast though, and Khadgar felt comfortable for one of the first times in his life. He never brought up the fact that he had Lothar’s first words to him written across his collar, and Lothar never even showed a sign that he had _any_ words of Khadgar’s on his skin at all.

So Khadgar didn’t push it or think about it too much, as there were many other things he needed to tend to at the time.

 

Khadgar had urged King Llane to summon the Guardian Medivh in the face of the Fel, as he was not nearly as far along in his training as the Guardian was. He assumed he could not deal with this evil alone, and Medivh would be better fit to explain it anyhow.

He was taken under Medivh’s wing, not explicitly, but it was obvious with how the Guardian spoke of him. He was willing to follow the man as long as he could be of assistance, as that was why he came to Stormwind in the first place.

With everything he was being thrown into at such a rapid pace, his soulmate issue became a silent ache at the back of his mind. He only thought of it when he looked at Lothar. And, more times than not, Lothar was looking back.

 

They went on a patrol mission in the Elwynn Forest to rummage through the wreckage and try to find a few traces of the attackers who broke an entire garrison of men, if any were left behind.

The minute they stopped moving, they were ambushed. Khadgar was protecting the Guardian, Lothar was protecting his son, and many troops were being slaughtered around them both.

Lothar didn’t notice his wrist shining once, though it happened many times, and no one else saw it either.

Khadgar was too distracted by the large people- or creatures, whatever they were -rushing his flank and being blown to bits to even think about Lothar or be concerned for his safety. Though somehow he knew he didn’t need to.

Khadgar didn’t become attached that fast, as his Words were simply a nudge in the right direction, not a straight link to his heart. He was gravitating towards Lothar, but he wasn’t about to jump over that cliff just yet, especially since Lothar didn’t give one indication that he might be interested in Khadgar, or that he had his Words.

Besides, he needed to protect the Guardian, so that the Guardian could protect everyone else.

Medivh’s actions pulled him from his thoughts; he felt something akin to nausea as the ground went up in light, fear trickling down his spine with the idea that someone significant might be caught in the crosshairs.

But that was Medivh he was talking about, and he should have trusted the Guardian’s abilities, because as the light cleared he saw that their men were safe.

Medivh complimented him on his efforts before teleporting himself to Karazhan. Khadgar felt a swell of pride that he had never experienced before in his life and smiled. He considered Medivh as his new father for a total of two seconds before he rolled his eyes at himself.

The battle was over and they had their prisoner; Khadgar felt fulfilled.

He was right to leave the Kirin Tor, and he was glad that the people around him solidified that fact instead of faulting it.

 

///

 

His pride fell away fast though as Khadgar started to feel more and more powerless in the face of this new war.

Suddenly, all Khadgar could see were walls of lightning, and suddenly, Lothar’s son was dead.

Lothar was screaming for Medivh, screaming for him to take the electric wall down and let him save his son.

Medivh was gone; Khadgar could tell he wasn’t hearing a word of Lothar’s pleas, and he felt like the most useless mage in existence because he couldn’t help his friend.

Khadgar didn’t even know how he could hear Lothar begging to the sky over all the noise, but somehow he could, and he felt his gut wrench every time Lothar shouted.

And then the shouting stopped, and silence took over.

Everything fell apart in one day.

Callan was dead, Medivh was corrupted, and they had no way to defeat the Orcs.

And on top of all that, Lothar was broken.

 

///

 

Khadgar wanted to comfort the commander somehow, wanted to be there for him, but he knew it wouldn’t help.

No amount of comfort fixed death, and Khadgar needed to save Azeroth from Medivh first. In order to help Lothar, he had to leave him, and he wasn’t too surprised to find the man locked in a cell when he came back.

 

Khadgar returned for Lothar, fished him out of his lonely cell, and the security it gave the commander tapped into something deep in his chest that he thought he’d lost long ago.

He didn’t have any time to think about it though, as Khadgar informed him that he was right about Medivh’s betrayal and that the Guardian needed to die for Azeroth to live.

Khadgar teleported them to Karazhan, and Lothar couldn’t stop looking at his blue eyes.

The fight wasn’t quite what he suspected it would be; it was definitely the worst brawl he had ever been in, probably because it wasn’t one.

He lost his shoes and almost lost his-- _the_ mage, in the process of beheading a clay golem. The kid was lying unconscious when Lothar found him and it worried the commander in more ways than one.

He didn’t want to lose Khadgar, and he couldn’t fight Medivh alone, so he slapped him. Khadgar brought them all the way out here just to get knocked out by some rocks, and Lothar wasn’t having it; the kid deserved a bit of a harsh wake up call.

Once he woke up, Khadgar held onto his arm as he came to, and for some reason Lothar had a small flashback to the day they met.

But then the golem was turning the corner on them, and Medivh was reciting the portal incantation, so he was going to have to save that thought for later.

He pulled Khadgar to his feet as they created a very shaky plan.

“Distract Medivh, and get him in the font.”

Lothar rolled his eyes, as if life was just that simple anymore, but turned and went to Medivh anyway. He trusted Khadgar to follow through, despite how slow he was on the uptake.

Medivh threw him across the mana pool for his efforts, and Lothar needed to reel him in close, “Come on, kill me, I’ve got nothing left to live for anyway.” His mind traced back to Khadgar as he said it, but then he became distracted.

Medivh was moving in close, a little too close, and _where was Khadgar?_

“Whatever you plan to do, kid… do it now.”

Medivh transformed into something vile in front of him.

“Now kid… Now, now, now- kid!”

The pool splattered green as the golem and Khadgar fell from the ceiling. Lothar let relief flood through him for just one second, one second to breathe, before he reached out a hand to Khadgar and caught a glimpse of his emerald eyes.

He leaned back, dread running through his veins once more, fearing he had lost his mage just like everyone else. But then Khadgar threw his hand out towards him.

He opened his eyes to a blue dome shielding him; warmth ran though his veins as he realized that Khadgar was still protecting him, despite everything else he had to deal with. The mage hadn’t fallen yet.

He watched as Khadgar placed his hand on Medivh’s forehead and everything glowed green. Dread was still running rampant under his skin because he might be safe, but Khadgar sure as hell wasn’t and he didn’t know how to change that.

He had to help, in the only way he could, to be there for Khadgar, “You’re stronger than he is.” He didn’t know if his words meant anything to the mage, but they meant a good deal to him.

His fingers abruptly flew to his right wrist when it started burning, shining brighter than it ever had before, as Khadgar began dismantling Medivh in front of him.

He still didn’t understand his Words, didn’t understand why they glowed. He could guess all day but he had no answers, and he was often too focused on something- someone- else to worry about it.

If he left himself examine it, he would see that he was too focused on war, too focused on protecting the king, and far too focused on Khadgar. He ignored his Words in favor of Stormwind, in favor of this mage, but then again, he didn’t need them. If he was going to have someone else, he was going to choose them.

And his first choice was being corrupted on the ground a few feet away from him.

Maybe that was when it dawned on him, he couldn’t tell. He never let himself think about it. He was always so distracted.

His burning wrist took him out of his trance but he ignored it to watch Khadgar. The mage needed to make it though this, and Lothar didn’t want to consider the idea that he wouldn’t.

He watched as Khadgar began defeating Medivh and a swell of pride rose in his chest as he realized that this mage was no longer a child. His innocence was stripped away for courage, and damn did Khadgar have a lot of that.

Lothar didn’t know how he was blind until then, but he let his admiration wash over him as Khadgar chanted something he wasn’t listening to. Lothar was too fixated on Khadgar’s power, too focused on him in general.

But then Khadgar completed his task and a green flood surged across the land, killing everything in its path, except for them.

Lothar felt his legs weaken a bit with how much was racing through his head, but as soon as the shield fell, Lothar was at Khadgar’s side, forcing those tired legs to work.

“Show me your eyes.”

He reached out toward the mage and realized his wrist was still glowing, but he was more worried about Khadgar’s safety at the moment.

Khadgar looked up at him, without a trace of green in those dark brown eyes and Lothar let out a breath of relief as Khadgar did the same.

Regretfully, the war was not over yet, and as much as Lothar wanted to stay and aid Khadgar, he needed to protect his king.

He looked up at the sound of his gryphon, “I have to go.”

But before he did, he reached out to Khadgar’s face again and didn’t care if his Words were bright and blue, shining against the mage’s cheek, because he wasn’t thinking about it, he was only thinking about Khadgar.

“I’m proud of you.”

Khadgar looked at his wrist, saw the blue light, and Lothar knew he wanted to ask about it, but he didn’t. Instead he smiled and dropped his head, letting Lothar’s fingers card through his hair.

Despite everything, everything that had happened to him and everything that would, Lothar wanted his words to glow because of Khadgar. He wanted his own words on Khadgar’s body somewhere and he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to do everything in his power to make it work.

 

///

 

Lothar didn’t show up to the battle in time, and all of his friends were gone once he made it back to Stormwind. He searched for Khadgar, the one man he had left, and told him of Garona’s betrayal, of Llane’s death, of almost everything.

He didn’t tell the mage of his feelings, because it was far from the right time, and Lothar was too distracted by everything else to worry about it.

He was glad to have Khadgar though, at the end of everything, he was glad he was there.

 

The next couple days passed in a haze.

The one moment Lothar remembered in stark color however was the moment he became Regent of Stormwind. He was distraught over his friends’ deaths, and slightly unsteady on the platform overlooking his people. Then he looked over to Khadgar, for what he didn’t know, but whatever he was looking for was given easily and with heart; he found pride and hope, he found a drive to move forward.

Khadgar simply nodded his head in encouragement and support, and Lothar’s chest tightened in some familiar way.

Khadgar was strong, after everything that had happened, and Lothar admired him deeply for it.

 

///

 

“Khadgar, please consider staying in Stormwind. We would all feel much better if you were here.”

They were gathered in the throne room after the ceremony, and Taria was offering Khadgar a room in the castle. He took her up on the opportunity gratefully, because he didn’t want to be alone anymore.

Also, Kharazan was a mess.

Khadgar nodded, “Of course, I just need to look through Karazhan’s library, there’s too much information to pass up.” Lothar snickered behind him but he ignored it, he knew how important Medivh’s collections were.

Taria nodded with a knowing smile, as she was accustomed to mages being booklovers, “You are free to use the library here in the castle as much as you need as well.”

Khadgar smiled at her kindness and the prospect of so many new tomes, “Thank you, your Highness.”

She mirrored his smile and talked slowly, “Of course, our new Guardian deserves nothing less.”

Khadgar’s eyes widened a bit, because sure, maybe he expected that to be his new responsibility eventually, but he was still hesitant to take the title so quickly. He had so much he needed to prepare for if he was going to replace Medivh, become superior to Medivh, and he hadn’t even scratched the surface.

Taria smirked, “Don’t fret, we know you need time to train before we ask you for any drastic assistance. We simply appreciate your help, if you are willing to give it.”

Khadgar nodded, acting confident, “That’s what I’m here for.”

Lothar came up behind him to put his hand on his back, calming him somehow, “You’ll be just fine.”

Khadgar turned to look at him, to catch those icy blues and reap Lothar’s confidence in him so that he could use it as his own. He couldn’t be Guardian alone, but he thought he easily could with Lothar by his side.

Taria spoke up again, pulling the two men back to attention, “Brother, please show Khadgar to his room and around the castle, just so he knows where to go.”

Lothar bowed dramatically, “As you wish, my queen” then clapped Khadgar on the shoulder before turning to leave. Khadgar followed suit after bowing apologetically and thanking Taria again for her kindness.

He caught up to Lothar in time for the man to ask, “Nervous, spell-chucker?”

Khadgar huffed, ignoring the nickname written on his skin, “Of course not.”

Lothar turned to smirk at him as they reached Khadgar’s quarters, “Good, you have no reason to be.”

 

After directing the mage to his room, Lothar showed him the library, and Khadgar almost lost himself in books before the commander pulled him back to reality again.

“Didn’t you want to get some things from Karazhan?”

Khadgar looked down at the stack of books in his arms that had he somehow gathered in two minutes and pouted, _pouted_ , before nodding and leaving them behind.

Khadgar created a teleport for them, just as he did when they visited the tower last, and Lothar got caught in Khadgar’s eyes once more. Something about that blue made him feel whole. He didn’t know how to place it or why it affected him like that, but he savored the feeling anyhow.

Once they blinked into the tower, they realized how difficult Khadgar’s task was going to be. They looked around at the wreckage that was left from the last time they were there and winced a bit.

Khadgar looked over at Lothar, “Maybe I should come back as I need to, can’t grab everything at once.”

Lothar shrugged. He was willing to help, of course, but with the looks of things there wasn’t much he could do, so he spun a chair around and dropped down in it, waving for Khadgar to get on with his business.

He smirked when Khadgar huffed and turned from him, as that was what he was trying to get him to do in the first place. He loved teasing the kid. Well, the man, he was quickly reminded as Khadgar bent over to pick up some books off the floor and shuffled through their pages. He averted his gaze until the mage was done gathering his literature.

It was dusk by the time Khadgar had finished his first trip to Karazhan and teleported them back to his quarters.

“That took far too long, mage.”

Khadgar was dragging books from one end of the room to another as he laughed, “Not even halfway done, Lothar.”

“I’m not going with you next time.” He was lying and they knew it.

“Whatever you want.”

Lothar shuffled in place for a second before helping the mage arrange his room the way he wanted for his studies, but he quickly felt exhaustion seep into his bones.

It had been a long few days.

Lothar yawned loudly and dramatically, so that Khadgar would let him stop helping and send him away.

Khadgar looked around at him from behind the shelf and rolled his eyes, smirking, “Alright, alright, get out of here Lothar, you’re slowing me down anyway.”

Lothar smiled broadly at the mage and headed for the door triumphantly. Before walking out, he looked back to say goodbye, but then he got caught on the sight he was met with.

He hadn’t realized it until then, but Khadgar was wearing fewer layers than normal. It was hot in the room, and there was a sheen of sweat on Khadgar’s skin; the mage raked his fingers through his hair when he looked up to see Lothar just standing at the door, looking at him, and it made his hair stick up funny.

It was pretty endearing, but then also kind of… something else. Lothar didn’t look away, and when Khadgar’s arm came down, his collar shifted open, showing Words across his chest.

Everything Lothar was feeling froze up, because he remembered his Words, he remembered how he wanted them to be Khadgar’s, and he didn’t even stop to think that maybe Khadgar had someone else he was waiting for.

Khadgar looked down at his collar, where Lothar was staring, and when the mage snapped his eyes back up the commander had the door closed behind him.

 

Khadgar was left standing alone in his disordered room, desperately trying to figure out what went through Lothar’s mind a minute ago.

He didn’t know how much of his collar was showing, but he doubted Lothar could read it; even with that doubt, he feared that Lothar knew they were his own Words and that was why he left.

He no longer feared that his soulmate didn’t want him around, because he and Lothar were friends, but now he considered that might be all Lothar wanted.

And that was fine; Khadgar could easily live with that. He just didn’t really want to.

At this point, he was settled into that fate anyway; he had gotten used to it.

 

///

 

Lothar wasn’t going to kid himself; he didn’t want to fall asleep when he got back to his room that night, since he had so much to think about, but he let himself pass out anyway.

His body was too exhausted to be ignored by his racing mind, so when he woke up the next morning and remembered last night he lay there, thinking over Khadgar’s marks, wishing he'd done something other than just walk out the door in silence.

He knew Khadgar saw what he was looking at, and likely thought his glare was intrusive and rude, because that is what it was; no one talked about their Words, because the one person that needed to know would know when you met them. And if they didn’t know, or if there wasn’t a match, no one wanted to let that secret out, because all they would get was pity.

Lohar didn’t let himself worry about it, because he didn’t listen to rumors and he didn’t know how soon these soulmates were supposed to crop up after the words were written, but he wasn’t going to wait around for them anyway.

He found someone better, and it was his choice. He controlled his own destiny, just like he always has.

Except, it wasn’t his choice. He could choose Khadgar, but that didn’t mean he could have him.

He could deal with rumors all day, but he definitely didn’t miss the fear of rejection prickling his stomach.

 

By the time he got himself up he was just barely on time for his training session with his troops. His day passed in a hot blur and he barely thought of anything but battle strategies. That was all he let himself think of; he couldn’t become distracted anymore.

He ate dinner in the grand hall without looking at Khadgar more than three times, and each time he did the mage was looking back. It made him feel like he had everything in his heart beaming bright on display, and maybe at this point in his life he should just let it happen.

But he hadn’t been this foggy in so long, and especially not because of a romantic hangup. He told himself he wouldn’t become hopeful again and yet here he was, running around on the Guardian’s heels just happy to be in his company.

If he let himself think about it, he was scared.

And he couldn’t stop thinking about it now, sitting alone in his room, staring at the wall wishing Khadgar was pacing around with a book or messing with his spells.cHe rolled his eyes at his own pathetic state and decided to do something about it.

He started walking towards Khadgar’s room, and on the way, everything he was worried about came swamping through his head again.

He didn’t want to lose Khadgar, didn’t even want to be given the opportunity, because he had maybe three people left in his life and Khadgar was… important. Khadgar was extremely important, to him and to Azeroth, Khadgar was _so much_ wrapped in one person that it made his chest ache sometimes. He thought about how new everything was for the young mage and how he might not be ready for anything else.

And then he thought about Khadgar’s Words. Lothar had made his decision to ignore his own possibly soulmate in favor of Khadgar, but he couldn’t simply ask Khadgar to do the same, if the mage even wanted to be with him at all. There were so many doubts he had, so many things that should have made him turn back to his room and shut everything away in his heart.

But he didn’t stop moving, and his fingers were wrapped around Khadgar’s doorknob before he had time to stop and think.

He didn’t knock, because he never did that, and to do so now would be abnormal, so he let himself in. The door creaked open to Khadgar pouring over notes on his desk in the dim candlelight. There were papers strewn up on the walls and books stacked against shelves; Khadgar barely even looked up when Lothar walked in. Lothar found his intense concentration endearing.

He sat himself on Khadgar’s bed, because that was the only open seat in the room. He didn’t know what to say, and he should have thought about it on his way over, but he was too distracted. He suddenly noticed he had been distracted a lot recently, but then he immediately recognized why.

Khadgar spoke up because Lothar wouldn’t, “How are you, Lothar?”

It was small talk that Lothar didn’t want to deal with, but he couldn’t come up with anything better so he replied with the truth, “Exhausted.”

Khadgar nodded and replied, still barely paying attention, “Me too.”

He still hadn’t looked up from his desk, and Lothar was beginning to worry that the mage didn’t want him in here. But then he got over that, because Khadgar wasn’t some compliant child, he would stand his ground any day for anything, and that was no different with Lothar.

Lothar accepted the silence, and used it to plan how he wanted to approach the situation. In the end he concluded that he should ask about the Words he saw, since it was the least suspicious angle and they were close enough to talk about it. He thought they were anyway, maybe not with the way Khadgar looked when he saw Lothar staring at his marks.

It was the best idea he had though, so he jumped in.

“Khadgar...“

“Hm?”

Lothar felt his stomach tense and considered backing out, but really, life was too damn short around here, “What do your words say?”

Khadgar didn’t reply, and when Lothar looked over, he saw the mage sitting frozen in his chair. Khadgar was scared that Lothar didn’t have his mirrored Words, but Lothar saw it as discomfort and panic instead.

Lothar started rambling to make up for it, “Because- because I have a word, on my wrist, but I don’t know what it means, or says, but I don’t care, you know? I don’t care about it because I found someone else-“

 

Khadgar was listening to Lothar make an ass out of himself on the bed behind him and heard him say that he found someone else, despite his words. And that was when it all fell into place.

Khadgar was right from the beginning, Lothar didn’t want him, because he had someone else. And he wanted to be able to handle that, since he guessed it from day one, but at this point it just made his stomach turn over harder than it had in a while. He wanted to get this conversation over with.

He didn’t know what to say so he somewhat whispered, “You don’t care about your Words?”

 

Lothar was pulled out of his rambling when Khadgar spoke up. The mage sounded hurt, more hurt than he was supposed to be and he felt like he said something wrong somewhere, but he didn’t know where, so he kept pushing forward.

“No, no- I mean, yes, I don’t care, but it’s not like that. I don’t care because I’ve always chosen who I want to be with and I know I can’t make you do the same, but, I just wanted to know… if you would want to, I suppose.”

He sounded like an idiot but it was better than silence he hoped.

 

Khadgar was so damn lost he could feel his mind doing back flips. What in the world was Lothar talking about?

“What in the world are you talking about?”

Lothar looked up at him as he turned around in his chair and the commander said, “I’m trying, in the worst way possible, to tell you that I want to be with you, despite my Words. So I thought the best way to bring it up was to ask about yours.”

Well, he was willing to talk about his Words now, but honestly he was more curious about Lothar’s at this point; he needed to figure out what was on Lothar’s wrist before he addressed the bright spark of something strong pressing against his rib cage.

He stood up and walked over to the commander, who had a deer-in-headlights look about him, and asked, “What are your words?”

Lothar answered instantly by standing, pulling up his sleeve, and presenting his wrist with an exasperated, “I’ve never seen that word before and I don’t care to hear it at this point but, I don’t understand it-“

Khadgar ignored the rest of the commanders rambling as he read the Words and had to stop himself from smiling.

Lothar watched Khadgar staring at his words and asked, “Do they mean anything to you?”

Khadgar struggled and knit his brow, acting as if it was some ancient language no one could possibly decipher. He spoke ‘Shalaros’ in a way that made it seem like he could barely pronounce it and smiled up at the commander as the blue runes circled his lifted palm.

Lothar stared at his hand for about five seconds before Khadgar watched everything click into place in his eyes. Then Khadgar looked back down at Lothar’s wrist and saw it glowing blue. His brow knit in actual confusion this time. He let his spell taper off and Lothar’s mark stopped shining.

He wanted to question if it was glowing like that the whole time before Lothar asked, “You?”

Khadgar rolled his eyes and pulled down his loose collar, showing Lothar his marks. The commander reached up and ran his fingertips across them the same way Khadgar always did and he didn’t want to hide his smile anymore.

But then Lothar blurted out, “You knew it was me the whole time?”

Why was Lothar so bad at things like this? Khadgar could handle him but honestly, was it on purpose?

“How often did we really have a minute to talk about it, Lothar? Along with that, I figured you didn’t have my Words, since you didn’t give me one sign that you might after you said mine.”

Lothar winced his very blue eyes, “I wasn’t listening when you cast that spell. I’ve been distracted lately.”

Khadgar’s eyebrow quirked up, “I’ve noticed that, actually.” Khadgar moved his hands up Lothar’s chest, making his way to his jaw.

Lothar smirked and breathed, “You have, huh.”

“A little bit.”

Khadgar’s fingers were grazing the sides of Lothar’s neck when he pulled him in, catching Lothar’s lips on his own. Lothar opened willingly and wrapped his arms around Khadgar’s middle, pulling the mage closer by the small of his back.

Khadgar got lost in the moment for a second before he started giggling against Lothar’s mouth.

Lothar smiled despite himself, “What?”

Khadgar kissed him lightly a few more times before saying, “Your wrist turned the same color as my spells, at the exact same time I cast them, and you didn’t even consider it might be me.”

Lothar’s eyes glinted wickedly in the candlelight before he spun Khadgar around and pushed him down onto the bed, grinning brightly.

“I told you, I’ve been distracted.”

**Author's Note:**

> OKAY FIRST THING'S FIRST, AGAIN: the blue light coming off of Lothar's soulmate mark was some random idea I came up with and decided to justify it by saying that no one's marks had done that because the Kirin Tor didn't allow soulmate marks so mages were not normally connected to their soulmate and that is why Lothar's glow, because Khadgar /is/ connected. Also, I WANTED TO ok idc if it doesn't make any sense because I know it doesn't and that's all that matters :-)
> 
> Second: I am VERY disappointed that I didn't manage to find a good time for Khadgar to call Lothar 'Anduin' and honestly I still want to add more to make it fit. Because it's my favorite goddamn trope that Khadgar calls him Anduin when he's emotional or turned on or whatever and... anyway I needed to state that for some reason.
> 
> Third: Hope you liked it! I might continue the series but who knows, I'm not good at consistently writing anything ever.


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